


fleeting

by felicities



Category: Sports Night
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2020-02-26 12:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18717001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicities/pseuds/felicities
Summary: 50-day fic challenge.day six prompt: 'fleeting.'





	fleeting

These are all they will ever get.

 

Forehead kisses and breathing in the scent of each other, fingers entwining and laughter ringing in their ears. All-nighters for Comm exams and long, bitter fights; fights that are resolved over coffee at 4 in the morning and a hug before he excuses himself— _Lisa’s waiting up for me_.

 

They share with each other almost everything, and yet it also seems like they share with each other nothing, because they can’t, they aren’t allowed to, because Lisa might misunderstand, because Lisa might think different, because Lisa, Lisa, _Lisa_.

 

Even after his divorce, even when they’re grown adults and have been through so many relationships (she has, at least), they still don’t get everything they want.

 

And it’s confusing, and baffling, and annoying, because they’re only not ever together due to their own choices—her choices. The words _Dating Plan_ and _Epiphany_ and the names Pixley and Calvin still leave a bitter taste in both their mouths.

 

And they try. They talk it out. But all it leads to are doors slamming in their faces and roses being stepped on and crying and yelling and they’re tired. They’re so tired. And she just wants to move on and he just wants to move on.

 

But they don’t. They never do. And these are all they will ever get: forehead kisses and breathing in the scent of each other. Only this time their arms are wrapped around each other and there are rumpled sheets and sunlight is bleeding through the yellow curtains of her room. And they know it’s a mistake, they know that once they’re back in the newsroom all of this will be forgotten; like none of it ever happened—that’s how it always ends, anyway.

 

But those are all they will ever get, and year after year of getting what they do, they think that maybe, maybe, it’s enough.


End file.
